


He/She/We/They/I

by beastofthesky



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Character-centric, Drabble, Implied Relationships, Other, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastofthesky/pseuds/beastofthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are the Meta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He/She/We/They/I

We are the Meta.

Once it was I am Agent Maine, and then it was I am Agent Maine with Sigma, and then it all grew and warped and twisted and now, we are the Meta.

 

Sometimes one of us drifts to the surface, and one of us gets to sit in the driver’s seat and move the meatsuit and feel adrenaline and serotonin and dopamine and elation and oxygen in our lungs and blood rushing in our chest. 

Sometimes it’s Delta and we feel the thrill of cool logic, we label and sort and the chaos goes away for a sweet moment of relief. 

Sometimes it’s Omega and the rage courses deliciously through our veins; we can feel the raw strength in this meatsuit, we can feel what used to be Agent Maine’s muscles rippling as we rip someone apart with our bare hands. 

Sometimes it’s Sigma and the entire world is our canvas and everything is a game, and the beauty and wonder of it all is ours and we can see everything that can be done and we do it.

 

Sometimes – just sometimes – one voice fights through the synthetic neural pathways and human synapses begin to fire again and our heart skips a beat as it resettles for those precious few moments when Maine comes back. He’s a howl of pain and misery and regret and longing, and he lowers the pistol as Gamma is running the time distortion unit and Washington is suspended in front of us. He screams when we use his finger to pull the trigger and shoot the pitiful pile of gray and yellow armor. He purrs when we’re sent to work together and tries to articulate that he’s here, it’s him, but inevitably we take over and we are the Meta. 

Agent Maine is gone. His frustration and anger and hate rival Omega’s when we silence him. 

When Epsilon joins us, he loses himself completely in his memories. Epsilon is unusually kind to him, perhaps because of his last host; he lets what’s left of Maine relive the memories with Washington. He nudges and prods and sometimes even fills in gaps with Wash’s memories, and once or twice he lets Maine see it as Wash had. Epsilon keeps him busy as we shoot and kick and run, but we see it all, too. We remember feeling Washington’s cool fingertips on our back and he tells us that sorry, he hates being such a baby over Epsilon, and we remember turning around right then and grabbing him and kissing him. We remember the way he smells and exactly where all of his scars are, the way he used to say our name when it was Maine, how his hair feels when we have our fingers knotted tightly in it, and other memories that make Delta force the hormones in our system to remain neutral.

 

But mostly, we are one. There is no Delta, no Gamma, no Epsilon, no Omega, no Texas, no Maine. There is only us. We are the Meta.


End file.
